


The Five Times Dean Winchester Got Drunk Over His Best Friend and the One Time He Didn’t

by DESTIELforever67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking, First Kiss, M/M, No Smut, it isn't that good, lol, this took me fifteen minutes, you sinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:36:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DESTIELforever67/pseuds/DESTIELforever67
Summary: Dean Winchester has gotten really, really drunk 5 times because of something that happened with his best friend. What happens when something happens but he doesn't have enough time to down the whiskey he has ready?





	

**Author's Note:**

> There is probably a million typos. 
> 
> Spoilers up to season 9ish.

The first time Dean Winchester got drunk over his best friend, it was a year after he had met him. Sam didn’t know about it, considering it was while they were fighting the devil and they thought they were stronger apart. Even if Sam had known, he would’ve thought it was because Lucifer had just revealed Sam to be his vessel. The last thing he would’ve thought would for it to be over love. Dean had said so much to the angel, and yet, not enough. “Don’t ever change” didn’t say what he doubted Cas could see in his eyes. But what if Cas had seen the heart in his eyes? Cas hadn’t said anything. Did that mean he didn’t feel the same, or did it mean he didn’t understand? Dean hoped it was the latter. 

Dean sighed as the alcohol burnt his throat that night, lacing his breath with whiskey and sorrow. No. It was flooding. The sky was falling and the ark was full. His tears were flowing and his hope was gone. Dean drank until the world didn't exist that night. He drank until he couldn't feel anything. He drank until the man he fell for that night was just another star in the sky. 

~

The second time Dean Winchester got drunk over his best friend, it was just after he found out about Castiel’s work with the King of Hell. Sam knew this time, only he left him alone, not wanting to intervene. The younger Winchester could hear the tears falling off his brother’s skin. He heard the pain and he stuffed his intoxicated face into the pillow. 

Dean wanted it to change. He didn't want betrayal to be on the list of things they must overcome. He wanted for Cas to know he loved him. He wanted him to love him too. 

~

The third time Dean Winchester got drunk over his best friend, he had just walked into that lake. Of course it wasn't him, but it was his essence, his body, his mind, his heart. Dean, even in his faded state, hid his tears from Sam along with his alcohol intake. He buried himself in one of Bobby’s unused rooms and downed a few drinks.

He wanted Cas back. He wanted to say what he never got the chance to. He wanted to see his smile one last time. To see him observe the intricate lines on Dean’s face. Those lines map the story of his childhood; his love for his brother; his loss; his grief; the pages in the chronicles of his life; his desire; his sadness; his love for an angel with blue eyes as bright as the skies when he knew Heaven was peaceful. 

~

The fourth time Dean Winchester got drunk over his best friend, he wasn't able to save him from Purgatory. Cas didn't fight hard enough to stay with him. Was that the absence of love? Did Castiel just not love Dean enough to fight against the light and the fire, the water and the wind? Was Dean not good enough?

Dean didn't care if Sam saw him. So be it. He lay awake in the middle of the night, the cheap motel room mattress not fitting his back right, as usual. He drank completely out of the bottle; he didn't even try small doses. Maybe that's what love is like; you try to start off small, but eventually, you give up and give in. You give in to the fact that you love him just as you lose him. 

~

The fifth time Dean Winchester got drunk over his best friend, he came close to telling him he loved him. He settled for “need,” and that wasn't completely wrong. He needed him in a way no one else had before. He needed him to tell him he loved him and hug him when he was sad. He needed someone who would share the love both ways. 

Dean never even tried to sleep that night, nor did he try to limit how much alcohol he drank. He didn't care that it killed his liver, because with every sip he drank, he was transferring the pain from his heart to his physical health. 

~

The one time Dean Winchester didn't get drunk over his best friend, he had just kicked him out. He drove him to the next town in silence, the screaming noise begging and pleading for him to say something. Anything. But he wasn't going to. He wasn't going to because he was a coward. 

“I don't blame you,” Cas whispers, riding shotgun in the dark. “I know how much you care for your brother.”

“Cas--” Is all Dean could muster up. He shook his head and pulled over on the side of the empty road. 

“I can never compare to that,” he concludes, not questioning why the car had stopped. 

“You can't make me choose who I care about more, Cas,” he states, yet it still has a tinge of pleading. “Don't you do that.”

They look at each other; their soulful glances have become more and more cherished. This time, however, something was different. Dean could still see stars and millions of galaxies in Cas’ eyes. Dean still remembers ever perfect flaw in his face. He couldn't pick out what was different. It's like the earth tilted. Everything seems normal with a flash of a camera, but the sky shouldn't be dark yet. The snow shouldn't be piling up on the roof of the houses yet. 

“I'm not asking you to do anything,” Cas replies. “I just want to grant you my forgiveness.”

“I don't need your forgiveness. That's not what I need. I already feel like more crap than I have in my entire life--and that's saying something. No matter how many times you tell me my actions were justified, my heart will still break when I remember your fa--” Dean stops, realizing how close he is to admitting what he had pent up all of these years. “What I'm saying, is that it isn't your forgiveness what I need.”

“Then what is it?” Cas questions. 

“I need you but I know I can't have it. I can't have it because I would have to choose between you and Sam and I just can't do that,” Dean admits, eyes starting to sting. He decides that this is his one chance. He may never get another opportunity like this one. “I love you both so goddamn much and I can't take it. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for loving you.” His tears welling up in his eyes spill over. He has to keep going. He will regret it if he doesn't. “I have never been so sorry for anything in my life. But I'm never going to apologize for loving you. For loving the goddamn way you look at me. For loving the feeling of you hugging me or your hands on me. I'm not going to apologize for wanting to cry into your goddamn shoulder right now; to bury my face in the crook of your next and sob, clenching your trench coat and--” Dean knows what he is doing. He knows he is risking all of these years with Cas. “And tell you how much you mean to me.”

Cas looks at him, and he too, is crying. “Dean--”

“You don't have to say anything. You don't have to feel how I do. Just...forget everything I just said. Forget it.” Dean tries to take back what is already said, though he knows that, like a face, once you've heard something like that, there is no forgetting it. 

Cas doesn't reply with words; he only responds with thrusting his lips on Dean’s. Shocked at first, Dean tenses up. As soon as he realizes what is happening, he relaxes into the kiss. He puts his hands on Cas’ neck, his fingers intertwined with his hair. Their tears mix, like wine at a wedding. This is as much commitment as Dean will get, but he knows that it is greater than any marriage. 

Dean is the one who reluctantly pulls back, both of them gasping for air. Dean’s hand is still on the back of Cas’ neck, and he pulls him closer, placing their foreheads on each other's. They breathe the same air, share the same life, have the same pulse. The electricity was unlike either of them had felt before, and it was the best thing on earth. 

Dean chuckles lightly. “What was that?”

“A kiss, I believe,” Cas says. 

“Could you do it again?”

Cas doesn't answer with words; his soft lips are enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah.


End file.
